Andyland, USA

Men, we need to talk. Let's begin by hanging that banner up over in the corner of the room, the one that reads “You're Killing Me, Buster.” Guys, the women in your life are unhappy. How do I know? I know from the way that I see people on dates, the looks on the females face's while the men check God only knows what on their smartphone. I know in the way men have bought into this bullshit idea from the media that being a sophisticated gentleman is “unmanly,” that it means you haven't earned your “man card.” Exactly how insecure are you that you need a damn body wash advertisement to clarify your existence as a male member of the population? We need to focus less on the idea of “manliness” and more on the idea of being a modern gentleman. First off, is being a gentleman anti-feminist? Hell no! Being a gentleman is all about respect. Respect for yourself, respect for others, and respect for women above all else. Let's face it, our girlfriends could murder us ...

“Why did I agree to go out tonight?” is what the text on my phone read. The text message came in at a quarter to midnight. I was at home, watching the movie Die! Die! My Darling! for the first time on TCM (A film that I've wanted to see for a long time, but was mostly a disappointment). The text was not a cry for help from a night gone sour, not remotely, instead it was a text of despair from a friend of mine who makes up half of a superpower that fights crime in the most amazing way possible. We never actually go out and fight crime. We're like The Wonder Twins, only we're The Wonder Twins of Anxiety and Needing to Be Alone To Recharge. That's exactly the situation my friend was in, she had spent most of her day out with people socializing, and she was desperately pining for the peace of being alone with a book. She pines for books, I pine for movies. On that particular day I was most sympathetic with her, as my day had been spent taking five hours to watch...

I couldn't think of a picture to use, here's Alfie I have done a lot of things in my time in order to win the affections of the female population. Desperate attempts to prove to them that I am worthy of having “boyfriend status,” despite the fact that as I grow older I'm coming to find that I'm the real life hybrid of Charlie Brown and Liz Lemon. Always having the football taken away from me at the last second, or having the constant desire to “want to go to there.” One of these moments in my life came last spring, as I went hiking for the first time. She was an outdoorsy lass, and I am, well, not. With my flat feet, my perpetual allergies, and my fondness for indoor plumbing, I find that nature hikes are not my thing. I like nature, and I like being in it from time to time. I would rather spend my time having a picnic in a park, than playing junior explorer. Yet when she texted me and asked me if I would like to go hiking with her, I said yes. She...

Usually the deaths of famous people and artists don't affect me that much. I'll have a moment of sadness and think about it, but then it'll pass from my brain. But when the death of Phil Everly, half of the pioneering, wildly influential rock duo, The Everly Brothers, passed away it really hit me. When the news of Phil's death came in the evening of January 3 rd , delivered to me from a post by a friend on Facebook, I said out loud “Oh, no.” I quickly grabbed a video of “Walk Right Back” off YouTube and posted it to my Facebook page, then I went over to my record player and started playing Everly Brothers records. I listened to the songs that night, and was reminded—as I am every time I listen to them—of how crazily perfect their harmonies were. It wasn't till the two days later, the morning of the 5 th , that it really seemed to hit me. CBS's Sunday Morning program did a lovely tribute to Phil, and when I heard the opening chord to “All I Have to Do...

To my friends, fans, and family. I'd like to take a moment and issue an apology. I'm sure by now most of you know that in a recent interview in Modern Maturity , I made some controversial statements that made many people upset. I'd like to begin by reminded you of what I, foolishly, said. In the interview I stated: “I don't see how anyone could enjoy the Xbox One or Playstation Four, when Nintendo's Wii U is the clearly superior system.” The outrage was immediate and immense. I lost half of my Twitter followers, three to be exact, and many people were calling for my resignation. The sharpest repercussion that took place was my suspension from my hit YouTube Series, Squirrel Dallas , in which actors in squirrel costumes re-create scenes from the famous 1980s primetime soap opera Dallas (and I was playing J.R. too!). Amazingly , for as many people as were upset, as many were angry that people were angry. There was a Facebook group called “Put Andy Ba...

As New Year's Eve approached, I realized that I had learned something over the course of December. My place is really dirty. Cleaning like mad in preparation for a few friends I had coming over for a gathering that night left me with one big question: “Was that big ball of grey fluff dust, cat hair, or both?” I had been slightly coerced into hosting a New Year's Party. It's not that I mind them, I just sometimes feel awkward at them. Everyone around me is sloshed, looking for an acceptable mouth to ram their tongue into at midnight. While I sit in the corner with a diet coke, and try to get a game of “Clue” going. This was going to be a far more scaled back version of that. The eight friends who were coming would be providing their own booze, there would be party games, and one was bringing a karaoke machine. The sight of booze and a karaoke machine could only mean one thing, that shortly after 12:01, someone would try to get everyone singing a very off key vers...

Despite all the tinsel and glow, all the shinny faces and families rushing around in their SUVs and minivans, Christmas can be a difficult time of the year for some people. An example? Recently a friend of mine was talking about grocery shopping with her husband and children. She came across the seasonal display of Little Debbie cakes, and began to pick up two boxes to mail to her grandfather. Upon putting them in the cart, she remembered that her grandfather passed away this year, she quietly, and sadly, placed the boxes back on the shelf. Before you get me wrong, I'm not hating on Christmas. I love this time of the year, genuinely, not in a “Up next on the Donnie and Marie Christmas Special is Andy Ross and he's gonna read that off some cue cards” way. I suppose why I feel a need to talk about this, is that I felt a little down last Christmas. It was odd, I didn't even feel enthusiastic about making my annual Christmas Mix CD, which has become something people...